


heart of my own heart

by GhostofBeltanesPast



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Computers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Napping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostofBeltanesPast/pseuds/GhostofBeltanesPast
Summary: A Somft (TM) vignette on a quiet afternoon.Iris may hope to introduce her father to the latest tech, but it's Regis who's privy to the struggle that can become.
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia/Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	heart of my own heart

“My dear,” Regis finds himself saying for the third time in perhaps an hour, “are you certain you’re alright?”   
  
From the corner of the room, Clarus grunts, not even looking up from the sleek laptop he’s hunched over.   
  
Regis sighs. “You know Iris will understand if you tell her you canno-”   
  
He stops short -- not because Clarus is glaring at him, but because of the way the lines on his face seem to have deepened, and the way he holds himself ready almost like he’s expecting a fight.   
  
It’s important to him, Regis knows, to be there for his children as much as he can be. Although prioritizing his duty was always a given, and although they’ve had able enough caregivers, it’s been no small thing for Clarus to miss so many milestones, and to have only small moments to spend with his children...and Iris most particularly, as Gladiolus at least can share in his father’s duty.   
  
It’s no surprise, then, that Clarus would want to master something Iris finds meaningful.   
  
He stands, although Regis doesn’t cross the room just yet. Better to let Clarus settle himself first. Decades together -- or rather, a  _ lifetime _ together -- has taught him many things, including how Clarus’ placid demeanor is nothing more than a facade. He’s always been taut as a bowstring underneath the mask of the Shield of the King of Lucis, only managing to relax in truth on the rare occasions they’ve had the chance to sequester themselves near-wholly for at least two or three days; only when there’s enough quiet time for Regis to coax some of the tension from his wiry frame, soothing with hands and lips and whatever else is required.   
  
For now, he pours himself another cup of tea, although he can feel Clarus’ eyes on him even with his back turned.   
  
“Would you like another cup, my heart?”   
  
Clarus shifts audibly behind him, but doesn’t answer right away -- the answer comes as soft footsteps approach, a far cry from the sharp, commanding pace he adopts while in public.   
  
Arms wrap around him from behind, and Regis sighs as he feels lips brush his pulse-point.   
  
There’s a vague sound of question from Clarus; he doesn’t stop, though, hands untucking Regis’ shirt so they can meander along his ribs and draw little gasps now and then.   
  
“Were you so worried about me?” He asks.   
  
Regis smiles and leans back fractionally, just enough to press into that familiar, solid form. “You’re usually more composed.” He laughs. “Such displeasure...I don’t know if I can name the last time I saw you this upset outside a council meeting.”   
  
Clarus grumbles and nips at his ear -- it only elicits another unrepentant chuckle, something they both know to expect. Regis isn’t sorry, and he isn’t going to be sorry, and Clarus doesn’t want him to be; they don’t even pretend otherwise.   
  
As the laughter fades, though, Regis can feel the arms around him tighten, even the slightest bit, and turns in Clarus’ embrace.   
  
“My heart?” He prompts gently, brushing tender fingers along Clarus’ cheek.   
  
When he simply leans into the touch with a stifled noise, Regis forgets all thoughts of computers and tea and the book he’d been reading. The kingdom and everything in it will still be there in an hour or two, and he will not be missed because he took the time to give himself to a man who has given him everything.   
  
“Come,” he says, and pulls back far enough to lead Clarus by the hand.   
  
Regis doesn’t ask when they reach the bedside; he knows what’s needed right now. After so many years, words aren’t always needed. He strips their clothes off in between tender, lingering kisses, and nudges Clarus backward until he climbs into bed of his own accord -- and follows shortly after.   
  
There will be time, later, to solve whatever problems his lover has. This, now -- offering comfort, spending the afternoon in bed, his arms and his heart full, entwined with one of the dearest people he’s ever known -- is what’s needed most.   
  
The rest will wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are! New content! It's not PF, but I'm quite content with it anyway, and you're likely to get a few more random one-shots like this as I try to get some motivation to write.
> 
> Besides, who doesn't love some RegClar? ;) This might get a part two to flesh out more fully the concept I had in mind, but we'll see.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading, and especially for leaving comments and kudos! <3


End file.
